


Desire

by blakefancier



Series: Addiction Universe [2]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-25
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake is not well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Caveat Lector. Seriously.

I wouldn't change a thing.

I saw my friends die, gunned down with pulse rifles. Blood and bone and gore splattered on the ground (the walls, clothes, faces). It was something out of a nightmare; a child's painting of death.

I saw my brother and sister die. They raped Aeryn before they killed her. They made Day watch (they made me watch). They held him by his arms and hair and made him watch. They laughed and raped her as she begged them to stop.

'Please, please, please,' she screamed.

They wore all black. They looked like death.

They shot her in the head and him in the gut. It was hours before he died.

I saw Gan die. I saw him die, his eyes open, his body dusted with plaster. He died for an empty room, an unrealized dream. (I couldn't sob with my heart in my throat. Not with it pushing up my throat.) No one cried. Not Jenna or Cally or Vila or Avon.

I saw Jenna die too. She exploded into starlight and my heart clenched like a fist. My eyes were dry and burning from the brilliance.

Deva said, his face wet, 'It's all right Blake, it's all right.'

It's not. It wasn't.

I saw myself die. My body torn from three blaster shots to my torso, blood staining my skin, I felt my heart stop. It stopped.

I did die. I did. (I felt it, the nothing of death that was as black as obsidian.) I felt it.

But I didn't--Avon didn't die. The blood didn't run from his body, his heart didn't stop, he didn't explode. His body was hot against mine. I could hear his breath, each wheeze and sob and whimper of air. His hair tickled my face.

*****

I look in the mirror and I don't know who I am. But I know I wouldn't change a thing. I wouldn't change the death in my eyes. I wouldn't because then he couldn't see the spark when he wraps his arms around my body.

He says it's hope.

But it's not; it's life. It's his warm skin and his breath on my neck and his fingers slipping into my shirt.

It's my breathing and my heart speeding up--pulse throbbing in my throat.

It's his teeth sinking in my shoulder and the hair, the sweat-sheened hair that falls into his eyes.

*****

I saw Deva die. On his back in the snow, one hand flung out, palm up, the other curled on his stomach. His eyes were blackened holes.

Laser probe.

Torture. I covered his eyes with my hands and could feel the heat still. Too hot. I packed snow into his eyes.

'Stop.' Avon grabbed my arms. 'What are you doing? Stop.'

He pulled me away and stared out into the sky. I covered his eyes with my hands. His lashed felt like little moth wings against my palms. I could push my thumbs into his eyes. I could feel his blood on my palms. I could kiss his eyes and taste his heart in my mouth.

I said, 'You didn't die. I shot you and shot you and shot you. You didn't die.'

He sighed and shoved my hands away. 'That wasn't real. Remember, remember that wasn't real?'

'I don't. I don't remember. Tell me again.' His lips were dry, chapped. I licked them until they glistened. 'I did see the others  
die.' (I didn't change that.)

'Yes, years ago.' He gestured to the ground. Empty.

'You made Deva leave.' I dropped to the ground.

'He was never there.'

'Are you?' I looked up at him. Snow had melted on his face. 'I didn't see you die. Did I?'

*****

He was bleeding. His mouth and nose were bleeding. Was he dying?

'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I'm sorry.'

'Shh.' He stroked my hair, his gaze never straying from the ceiling. 'It's not your fault. You had a nightmare.'

'I'm sorry. You were dying and you asked me to kill you. How am I supposed to change it if everyone keeps asking?' I kissed the  
blood from his face. Then I went lower and kissed the bruised ring of flesh at his throat.

'Don't.' He shrank away from me.

'I won't hurt you. I won't.' And I put my head on his chest. His heart thumped in my ears. 'I'm sorry.'

'Blake.'

'I wouldn't change it, Avon. You're alive and I won't change that, even if you ask.'

*****

I think I'll choke.

I choke her. My hands around her throat, I could feel her pulse against my fingers.

I squeeze until the pulse is gone, until she no longer struggles. Until Avon pulls me away.

'Neeri. You killed her. Why?'

'I saw Neeri die,' I tell him.

'No, you didn't.'

But I did. I did.

We bury her in the garden, near the annuals.

*****

I saw Servalan die. I saw her die and knew it was real. I never saw her die before, never saw her decayed face slacken and melt as I shot at it. She was warm and beautiful the way Avon was warm and beautiful. She breathed and whimpered and cried out.

I cut her face, cut her until the beauty was gone, until she begged. She screamed the way my sister screamed. I tore her to pieces.

Avon didn't like it. He didn't; he walked out of the room and didn't look back.

I killed her. I killed Servalan.

And I wouldn't change a thing.


End file.
